


Hidden Depths

by Zeplerfer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2020 USUK Week, Fantasy AU, M/M, Mage Arthur, Swordsman Alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/pseuds/Zeplerfer
Summary: At the center of the labyrinth was a powerful spell—one rumored to offer the secret to discovering your soulmate.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

Alfred peered into the pitch-black entrance to the mage temple and tightened the grip on his sword hilt. “So what sort of spell is inside this one?” he asked.

“A complicated one,” Arthur curtly replied. He cast a floating ball of light into the entrance and followed it down the stone staircase into the depths below. The steps were perfectly even in width and height—a clear mark of a structure created by magic instead of stone masonry.

Alfred hurried down the steps behind Arthur. He easily caught up with him and took a position a few paces in front of the mage. While Alfred watched for monsters, Arthur took a moment to admire the view. Alfred was tall, blond, and handsome. His studded leather armor had been fitted to his body, accentuating his muscular arms and broad chest. Underneath all that muscle was a kind heart that put up with far more abuse from Arthur than anyone deserved.

Arthur wrapped his mage robes tighter around his slender frame and silently chastised himself. He was hopelessly infatuated with his guard and the poor, oblivious man had no idea. But at the end of the tunnel was a solution that would save Arthur from the horrifying embarrassment of anyone—least of all Alfred—ever learning the truth about his unrequited love.

As they descended, the air grew colder until it was as dry and chilly as a crisp autumn evening. A few droplets of water dripped along the walls. Glowing blue mushrooms sprouted in crevasses along the edge of the stairs, providing extra pockets of light in the dank underground temple.

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?” Alfred pressed. He ducked beneath a low-hanging stalactite and paused when they reached a three-way intersection at the bottom of the stairs.

“Unless you’ve spontaneously developed the ability to cast spells, that’s all you need to know.” Arthur studied a map marked with mystic symbols known only to practitioners of the arcane arts. “Now be quiet. I’m _trying_ to concentrate.” He stared at the map a moment longer and then took the left-hand path.

“Different spells attract different monsters. It’d help to know what I might be dealing with,” Alfred grumbled as he took the lead again.

“What does it matter what type of monsters they are? All you have to do is stab it with the pointy end until it stops moving.” Arthur shrugged. “Besides, this spell is unlikely to attract anything dangerous.”

“That’s what you said about the pixies.”

“Because pixies are perfectly polite if you treat them properly. It’s your own fault for behaving like such a boor.” The pixies had, of course, returned Alfred to him unharmed, but they had still teased Arthur mercilessly for his hopeless crush on the clueless man. Fortunately, Alfred was too insensitive to magic to hear any of it.

“I hope there are some monsters,” Alfred said with a grin. “I’ll show them what it means to face the best swordsman in the mage guard!”

“At the moment I’d prefer the _quietest_ swordsman.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a guard at all,” Alfred grumbled.

“I told you it wasn’t necessary to accompany me,” Arthur reminded him. “You’re welcome to leave.” Given what Arthur planned to accomplish, he wished Alfred would depart. It would be embarrassing to have a witness see how far the depths of his desperation would carry him.

“A guard never deserts his mage,” Alfred stalwartly replied.

“How fortunate for me,” Arthur said dryly.

“You’re being meaner than usual. You still pissy about what Francis said?”

Arthur huffed. “I don’t care what that bloody frog says!”

Alfred glanced back over his shoulder at Arthur and smirked. “Uh huh. So you’re not looking for another transformation spell to turn him into an amphibian?”

“No. There’s no point now that he’s figured out the counterspell.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. He’s wrong anyway,” Alfred continued as he followed the mage light deeper into the tunnels.

Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think so?”

“Of course. You’re an incredibly powerful mage. You’re not going to die sad and alone. I’m sure you can just magic someone into loving you.”

Arthur froze in place. “You think the only way I could ever find a lover is through magic?” he demanded icily even as his heart clenched with pain.

“Well, it sure isn’t going to be your sparkling personality.” Alfred kept walking forward until he realized that Arthur had stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder at Arthur.

“How dare you!” Tiny sparks of electricity sparked from Arthur’s fingers as his emotions swirled in a whirlwind of furious anger. Like a bolt of lightning, he struck out at the nearest target. “You are the most moronic, worthless, pathetic guard I have ever had the misfortune of dealing with!” he screamed at Alfred, voice echoing against the stone walls.

Alfred crossed his arms and glared back. “Yeah? Well you treat everyone like shit just because we aren’t as powerful as you!”

“If you don’t like it, then leave already!”

“Fine. I will!” Alfred yelled. He stomped past Arthur, matching him glare-for-glare. Alfred walked back through the tunnel and toward the temple entrance. He disappeared into the darkness with only phosphorescent mushrooms to light his way.

Once Alfred was gone, Arthur’s heart pounded with warring emotions. He wanted to chase after Alfred, but he knew it was a foolish desire. If Alfred didn’t hate him before, he certainly did now. Arthur stared at the stone-cold ground and slowly began to walk forward again, moving even deeper into the heart of the mage temple.

The truth was, Alfred had hit frighteningly close to the mark. Arthur would never find love in a normal way. So he intended to use magic to prove Francis wrong. He continued walking down the tunnel. At the center of the labyrinth was a powerful spell—one rumored to offer the secret to discovering your soulmate. The last mage to seek it had disappeared, but Arthur didn’t care. No matter the risk, he was going to find his soulmate or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing most of the 2020 USUK week prompts in a single story. This is crush/pining + soulmate.


	2. Chapter 2

After a long and winding path through dark tunnels, Alfred heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the temple and into the afternoon sun. The horses were still loosely tied to a branch near some leafy bushes.

Alfred untied his horse, a gentle mare named Lady. She glanced back and forth between Alfred and the temple entrance, as if she were waiting for Arthur to appear.

“He decided to do this one alone,” Alfred replied. He gently scratched his loyal steed on her withers. Arthur’s gelding whinnied as Alfred saddled Lady. “Sorry, old boy,” Alfred said apologetically. “He’ll be out soon enough.”

Alfred’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that lunch had been a long time ago. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a leather pouch. Inside, wrapped individually in paper, were several warm, delicious scones that felt like they had just come out of the oven. Alfred plopped one into his mouth and smiled at the fond memory.

* * *

_One year earlier…_

Alfred heard a loud boom from the kitchen. He unsheathed his dagger and raced forward, prepared to confront whatever monster was attacking the mage’s kitchens. But instead of a horrible monster, he found Arthur at the center of the kitchen, covered from head to toe in flour. Arthur sneezed and white powder filled the air like a soft mist of snowflakes.

“Are you… okay?” Alfred asked, trying not to laugh at the bewildered expression on Arthur’s face. The mage had traded in his normal robes for an apron. With flour coating his hair and face, he looked more like a baker’s apprentice than a powerful mage. All around him, flour coated the counters and floor.

“The spell may need a few more tweaks,” Arthur grudgingly admitted. He sighed and closed his eyes. As he concentrated, the flour on the floor and his body slowly began to dance through the air. It clumped into balls and deposited itself in a ceramic container. Within minutes, the kitchen was clean again.

“You missed a spot.” Alfred said with a grin. He grabbed a washcloth and wiped the light dusting of flour off of the tip of Arthur’s nose.

Arthur blinked in surprised. He opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything.

“So what are you trying to make?” Alfred asked as he studied the ingredients in the kitchen. Flour, sugar, salt, butter, eggs, dried fruits, and a pitcher of milk were laid out on the wooden counter next to the sink basin.

“Better rations. I’d rather not have to listen to your complaints on the road.”

“You’re making better hardtack? You’re the best mage ever!” Alfred squealed with glee. He sat down on a chair and rested his elbows on the table with his chin in his hands. “Can I watch?”

“I suppose…” Arthur shrugged. “As long as you don’t mind a bit of flour in your hair.”

“It’s a big improvement over monster guts.” Alfred watched as Arthur sketched symbols in the air. The ingredients floated into a bowl and swirled themselves together. As Arthur concentrated, he absentmindedly stuck out his tongue.

Alfred smiled happily to himself. The other guards said that Arthur was terrible, but in the two months he had spent with the mage, he had grown rather fond of Arthur’s quirks. Arthur could be snarky and quick to anger (especially with his arch-rival Francis), but he was also determined and courageous in the face of danger. Plus, he was adorable—with a slim build, expressive eyes, and rather dashing eyebrows. Yes, they looked like fuzzy caterpillars, but in a good way.

A cat purred and rubbed against Alfred’s ankle. He reached down and scratched underneath her chin. “Hey, there,” he said to the affectionate kitty.

Arthur gave his cat the side-eye. “She’s supposed to be keeping mice out of the pantry, but do you know what I saw there last week?”

“A mouse?” Alfred guessed as he continued petting the purring cat.

“Exactly. No more treats for you until you pull your weight around here,” Arthur chided the cat. She meowed and padded over to Arthur. She winded her way between his legs, rubbing against his ankles and meowing piteously. Arthur crossed his arms, but the cat kept meowing. “Fine!” he relented, tossing her a treat. “But that is the last one until you catch a mouse.”

Alfred smiled to himself. Despite Arthur’s reputation for being a fearsome mage with a short temper, he really was a softy at heart.

With a sonorous incantation, Arthur resumed his spell-casting. Soon, the delicious scent of fresh-baked bread filled the kitchen. Arthur magicked the ingredients into delectable-looking scones. He stared at them critically and then nodded to himself. “Would you like to try one?” he offered, presenting them on a plate to Alfred.

Alfred’s mouth watered and he nodded eagerly. He picked up a scone and bit down. It was perfect—warm, buttery, and soft. Alfred sighed in bliss. “This is amazing!” he said in-between mouthfuls.

Arthur smiled with pride. His eyes crinkled at the corners and unlike his usual smirks and grins, he looked genuinely pleased.

Alfred smiled back and pushed the plate toward Arthur. “You should try one!”

“Very well.” Arthur sat down in the other chair. He took a delicate bite and nodded to himself. “This will do. I’ve enchanted them to stay perfectly fresh, as if they just came out of the oven.”

“Awesome! We going somewhere soon?” Alfred asked, eager for an excuse to eat more of the delectable scones.

“The temple near Stonybrook.”

“What’s there?”

“A transformation spell.”

“Oooh. Are you going to turn into an animal?”

Arthur smirked. “Oh, it’s not for me.”

“You know, when you build your mage temple, I think you should dedicate it to this scone spell,” Alfred said as he bit into another scone. He sighed contentedly.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I can make a more important contribution to the arcane arts than kitchen magic.”

* * *

Alfred stared at his half-eaten scone and sighed to himself. “Damn it,” he muttered. Arthur could be a snob and a pain, but despite all of his flaws, Alfred would never forgive himself if Arthur got hurt. Yes, Arthur had been unkind, but Alfred had said some cruel things himself. He re-tied Lady to the branch and took off her saddle. Alfred’s heart clenched as a sudden vision of Arthur drowning in a dark cavern filled his mind. Without thinking, he raced toward the temple entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for the USUK week prompt: fantasy fluff/domestic. I know we usually make fun of England's scones, but when he's making them with magic he does a great job!


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur pressed deeper into the temple with his mage light as his only companion. He followed the winding path through a labyrinth of cold, echoing tunnels, until he arrived at the heart of the temple.

It was a vast cavern lit with beautiful, green glowstones. At the center lay an underground lake. The water was as dark as a moonless night, reflecting the glowstones like an infinity of stars spread out beneath Arthur’s feet. He stepped forward onto a stone outcropping on the edge of the lake and peered down into the inky depths below.

“Show me,” he murmured in the archaic language of the mystic arts. At the bottom of the lake, runes began to glow with power, spelling out an ancient incantation. Beneath that was a warning, that love required reflection and sacrifice.

Arthur nodded to himself and began to chant. The glowstones brightened as power flowed from his body, like blood from a seeping wound. The light took on a reddish tint. Arthur’s vision dimmed until the only thing he could see were the runes at the bottom of the lake. Blood pounded in his ears.

By the time he finished, Arthur was completely exhausted. He sank to his hands and knees and gasped for breath. He looked around the cavern, waiting for someone to appear. The cavern was completely silent other than Arthur’s heavy breathing. He waited for a sign, but no one came. The lights beneath the lake slowly dimmed and disappeared. Arthur leaned forward and peered into the water. Perhaps the spell granted a vision instead of making the person appear?

His reflection stared back at him—pale, skinny, with an irritated look on his face. Arthur sighed and his expression grew forlorn. It seemed with even the most powerful magic in the world, Arthur would never find love.

As Arthur looked down, his reflection in the water began to shift. He grew older, until he was an old graybeard with a cranky expression and thick eyebrows pulled together in a perpetual scowl.

“Yes, I get it,” Arthur replied. “You’ve made your point.”

The reflection shifted again, this time showing Arthur as a young boy in his family’s manor house. Arthur’s father stepped into the image. He towered over the young Arthur and scolded him angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re just playing,” the young Arthur replied quietly.

Arthur’s father pointed to the other boy standing next to Arthur. “He is a page. His duty is to serve you. You must never stoop below your station to mingle with your lessers, boy.”

The young Arthur nodded sadly as the servant boy slunk away.

The reflection changed again. This time Arthur was a young man in mage robes. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest near the infirmary.

“He could have died!” the captain of the mage guards shouted at Arthur.

“Well, he would have avoided my fireball if he had ducked when I told him to,” Arthur replied coolly. “What’s the point of a guard if he can’t follow orders?”

“We’re not your personal servants, Arthur. We serve the kingdom by protecting the mage circle. But if you’re more of a danger than the monsters, then I won’t be assigning you anyone else.”

“Fine by me,” Arthur said. “I can handle myself.” He turned to walk away.

“Not that you asked, but the healers said that Edmund will make a full recovery,” the captain called after him. “Of course, his hair may never grow back.”

“Next time he’ll know to duck.”

The reflection shifted again. This time Arthur had a surprised look on his face. He set his scroll down on the table and turned to look at the people who had waltzed into his personal study without so much as a by-your-leave.

It was the captain of the mage guard and next to her stood Alfred. She gave Arthur a chilly look. “Alfred, this is Arthur of Kirkland,” she said. “You are to protect him on his trip to Northon. You do not need to cook for him, clean for him, or carry his supplies, no matter what he may say to the contrary. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Alfred beamed happily at Arthur. “I can’t believe I get to protect the hero of Grasmere!”

The captain sighed and shook her head, not that Alfred was paying any attention. “Yes, well, you should probably go prepare for your trip.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Alfred nearly ran out of the room in his excitement.

Arthur arched an eyebrow as he and the captain watched the young guard go. “Is he even capable of killing a monster?” Arthur asked snidely.

“Alfred is an extremely competent swordsman. He’s also naïve enough to believe you’re a hero, though I suspect spending time with you will disabuse him of that foolish nonsense.” She leaned down until her face was directly in front of Arthur’s face. “I’m only assigning him to you because _someone_ on the council pulled strings on your behalf. If anything happens to him, I will deal with you personally.”

Arthur chuckled and returned to his scroll. “You shouldn’t make threats you can’t keep,” he replied dismissively. “Now run along, captain, I have actual work to do.”

The water went dark. Arthur stared into it for a few minutes longer, but nothing else appeared. He slowly stood up, dusted off his robes, and sighed to himself.

“Yes, I know I can be a real prick,” he muttered. “You were supposed to show me my soulmate, not rub it in my face!”

“A sacrifice is required,” a voice spoke to him in a deep, harmonic voice. “He is coming.”

Arthur jumped backwards in surprise. “Who is?”

“Sacrifice.”

Arthur frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Sacrifice part of yourself or lose him.”

“Lose who?” Arthur demanded, but his heart froze with fear as he guessed the answer. If the spell required a human sacrifice, there was only one person close enough to be within reach. Arthur angrily shook his head and glared at the lake. He couldn’t lose Alfred. He _wouldn’t_. He didn’t care if his refusal meant that he never found his soulmate. Even faced with a lifetime of loneliness, the price was too high to bear.

“Choose,” the voice said. The word rippled and distorted until it disappeared.

Arthur took a deep breath. He was the one who had foolishly pursued this temple despite the warnings and he was the one who would pay the price. “I won’t let you have him,” he said.

Before Arthur could react, the enchanted waters reached up to grab him and pulled him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt is the nautical theme.


	4. Chapter 4

Heart clenching in pain at the horrible vision of Arthur drowning, Alfred dashed into the temple. Instead of stone steps, his boots immediately landed on soft sand. He gaped at the vast underground lake lit by green glowstones. The reflection of the glowstones rippled in waves centered near the edge of a stone outcropping.

“Arthur!” Alfred shouted into the darkness.

His voice echoed, but no one replied. Heart pounding, Alfred raced toward the lake. Each step in the sand felt like it took a thousand heartbeats. If Arthur died because Alfred had deserted him, Alfred would never forgive himself.

After what felt like an eternity struggling through the sand, Alfred reached the stone outcropping. He shouted Arthur’s name again. As he drew closer, he saw a pale hand slowly sinking just below the surface of the water.

Alfred dropped flat to the ground. With his face right next to the dark water, he thrust his hand into the frigid lake and managed to grab the hand before it slipped out of reach. Alfred tightened his grip and heaved with all of his strength. He dragged the body above the surface.

As soon as Arthur’s head was above the water line, he sputtered and coughed for breath. Filled with immense relief, Alfred pulled Arthur out of the water and fell backward with the soaked and shivering mage on top of him. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur and squeezed tightly. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” Alfred whispered, eyes prickling with tears.

Arthur coughed and for a few moments simply lay with his head against Alfred’s chest. Alfred could feel Arthur’s heart pounding against his own.

Alfred brushed Arthur’s wet hair away from his forehead and gazed down into Arthur’s glassy eyes. “Can you hear me?”

Arthur slowly looked up. His eyes began to focus and he stared in confusion at Alfred. He glanced at the lake and shivered. “You need to get away,” he whispered. He started to climb shakily to his feet. Alfred reached out and steadied him.

“Is there a monster?” Alfred asked as he helped Arthur walk unsteadily across the sand.

“Something like that.” As they drew further away from the lake, Arthur slowly began to relax. He crunched his eyebrows in confusion. “How did you find me?”

“I don’t know. I just knew you were in trouble and suddenly I was here.” Alfred glanced around the vast, dimly lit cavern. “Wherever here is.”

“It’s the heart of the temple.”

“So did you find your mysterious spell?”

Arthur shook his head. “It wasn’t worth the cost.” To Alfred’s shock, Arthur suddenly reached over and gave Alfred a hug. “I’m so sorry about the horrible things I said to you,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean them.”

Alfred blinked in surprise, then hugged Arthur back. He didn’t care that Arthur’s sodden robes were soaking his own clothes. “Yeah, you’re a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

“You’re not worthless. You’re worth a great deal to me.” For the first time since Alfred had met him, Arthur looked unsure and a little lost. Arthur opened his mouth, but instead of saying anything more, he sneezed and then shivered.

“I think you might have hit your head.” Alfred lifted Arthur’s arm over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around Arthur’s waist to steady his grip.

“I didn’t hit my head,” Arthur muttered, even as he accepted Alfred’s help.

They made their way to the edge of the cavern and entered the labyrinth of tunnels. Alfred followed Arthur’s directions, but it was slow going. The longer they walked, the slower Arthur’s steps grew. “I know you hate it, but this would be a lot faster if I carried you,” Alfred said.

Arthur huffed. “Fine,” he muttered.

Before Arthur could change his mind, Alfred bent down and pulled Arthur sideways over his shoulders. He held onto Arthur’s arm in front of his chest and hooked his other arm behind Arthur’s knees. Alfred grunted with effort as he stood up. With Arthur’s weight distributed evenly over his shoulders, Alfred was able to walk at a decent pace. Arthur was a little heavier than his slim frame would suggest, but Alfred didn’t care. He was willing to carry Arthur for as long as it took.

The phosphorescent mushrooms provided a dim blue light in the tunnel. As the tunnel grew darker, Arthur lifted his free hand and cast a mage light to guide them. Alfred’s heart clenched painfully as the mage light continued to flicker in front of him. He hadn’t seen Arthur in such bad shape since the orc siege of Essenburg. Alfred’s panting breath was the only sound in the tunnels as he pressed on. Relief surged through him when they arrived at the stairs that led up to the temple entrance. “I need to rest for a second,” Alfred admitted, breathing heavily from the extra weight. He lowered Arthur back to the ground.

They sat down on the steps. Arthur stared blankly into the darkness, deep in thought.

“I still don’t understand how I got to you in time,” Alfred said after a few moments to catch his breath. He wasn’t complaining, but it didn’t make sense. The only explanation he could think of was that Arthur had instinctively cast a spell to save his life. The effort of casting a powerful spell would explain why Arthur was so exhausted.

“I’m not sure,” Arthur admitted. “I just want to leave.”

Alfred nodded and stood up. “Okay. I’m ready.” He offered Arthur his hand and pulled the mage to his feet.

“Thanks." Arthur waved off Alfred's help. He kept one hand on the wall and slowly made his way up the stairs, one step at a time. Alfred followed behind, ready to catch Arthur if he fell.

“Was it an immortality spell?” Alfred asked, eager for something to distract him from the horrible thought of how close he had come to losing Arthur. “I bet that’d come with a steep price.”

Arthur shook his head. “No. The temples are the closest we come to immortality. You create a great work and pass it on to future mages. Every time they cast the spell, a little bit of you lives on.”

“Why make it so hard to get inside?”

“You can’t bequeath a spell to someone who isn’t ready for it. They have to prove they can master it. The harder the spell, the harder the test. I suppose I wasn’t ready for this one.” The light grew brighter as they neared the top of the steps. Arthur continued, “Some spells can be difficult to unravel. The temple gives you just enough hints to teach yourself because the lessons we learn for ourselves last longer than the ones someone else teaches us…” he trailed off. “ _Oh_.”

Alfred recognized the tone of Arthur’s voice when he had a particularly difficult puzzle within his grasp. “Don’t tell me you want to go back in there.”

Arthur shook his head. “The spell never said I had to sacrifice _myself_. It said I had to sacrifice a part of me.”

“Wait, who’s talking about sacrificing anything?” Alfred demanded. “Did you jump into the water to sacrifice yourself?”

“I think what it meant was that I have to sacrifice my _pride_. The spell wasn’t trying to kill me, it was trying to humble me so I could figure out how to find my soulmate.” Arthur turned toward Alfred as they stepped out of the temple and into the angled rays of the setting sun. Above them the sky provided a magnificent canvas of red and orange, but Alfred wasn’t looking at the sky. The light of the setting sun cast a warm glow on Arthur’s features—highlighting his soft, thoughtful smile and the hopeful crinkle of his eyes.

“How are you going to do that?”

Arthur reached over and clasped Alfred’s hand. “I’d like to start with this. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the King’s Day ball?”

Alfred frowned, insulted that he was only being considered as an option because Arthur's spell had failed. “So you’re going to lower yourself to asking me on a date?”

“No!” Arthur panicked and hurriedly shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant!”

“Yeah, well, it sounds to me like you went looking for a love spell and when that didn’t work out you decided to settle for your lowly guard.”

“That’s not true at all. The spell didn’t work because I had to choose between losing you and finding my soulmate and I chose you!”

“Gee. I’m glad you’re not willing to kill me to find your soulmate.” Alfred pulled back his hand and crossed his arms. “How noble of you.”

Arthur looked devastated. “Do you think so little of me that you think me capable of that?”

“No,” Alfred admitted softly. “But I’m not going to attend a ball with you just because you want to prove Francis wrong.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Arthur insisted. “I’ve fancied you for some time. I just never did anything about it because, well… I suppose I never truly considered you my equal.” He hastily added, “But I was wrong about that!”

“Maybe you should stop talking, Arthur.” Alfred pushed his turbulent emotions to the side and focused on more practical considerations. “Go change into some dry robes. I’ll start the fire. When we get back, I think it’s better if you find a new guard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They don't teach love confessions at mage academy and it shows. Also, yes, this is a little inspired by Mr. Darcy's speech in Pride and Prejudice. 
> 
> Anyway, the prompt for this one is immortality. I admit, it's a stretch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood and violence. It's all T-rated, but wanted to give a heads-up.

_Summer_

Arthur stared into the mirror and nervously brushed back his hair for the fifth time in the past minute. He examined his reflection critically. He wore a double-breasted tunic in dark gray, with matching trousers and an elegant green cloak tied around his neck. The rest of him could use a little work. His hair was a mess, dark circles hung under his eyes, and even his eyebrows seemed shaggier than usual.

“Perhaps I should just skip it,” Arthur murmured to his cat. She meowed at him and then tried to get into the basket filled with scones. Arthur scooped the basket up by its handle and lifted it out of the cat’s reach. “Those aren’t for you!” he chided. He looked down at the basket and made up his mind. “Well, no sense letting them go to waste.”

Arthur straightened his back and headed outside to the King’s Day celebration. The mage’s ball was an elegant affair held in the ballroom with dancing and dainty cocktails. Alfred, however, preferred the raucous celebration outside with fireworks, roasted hogs, and folk dancing. So that was where Arthur headed—to what Alfred called the _real_ party.

It was certainly noisier, with more food and many free-flowing kegs of beer. Arthur contemplated the kegs as he walked past. The idea of drinking until his heart stopped aching was certainly tempting, but he had a present to deliver first.

Arthur winded his way through the crowd. He nearly bumped into the captain of the guard as she walked past. She gave Arthur a double-take. Arthur just nodded and continued pressing his way forward to the banquet tables. The tables brimmed with a multitude of contributions to the potluck feast.

There was an empty spot on the baked goods table, perfect for Arthur’s basket of scones. He was headed directly for it when he noticed two familiar figures nearby. Francis held a beautifully decorated cake and he was happily chatting with Alfred as he set it on the table. The people nearby watched hungrily, waiting for Francis to move so they could swoop in and eat a slice.

Arthur froze and looked down at his scones. They were tasty, yes, but they were nothing compared to Francis’s magnificent culinary contribution. Had Francis known about Arthur’s plan and connived a way to upstage him or was it just a horrible coincidence? Arthur set his scones on the table and slunk away. It had been a stupid plan anyway.

He headed for the kegs and was halfway through a stein when Alfred appeared in front of him, happily snarfing down a scone. “There you are. Knew you had to be around here somewhere.”

“Uh, yes,” Arthur replied lamely as he took a moment to gaze his fill. Alfred’s tunic had some wrinkles and creases, but they were barely noticeable compared to Alfred’s bright eyes, dazzling smile, and sun-kissed skin. “I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday,” Arthur added, once he managed to untie his tongue.

Alfred beamed back at Arthur and for a moment it felt like they were the only two people in the world. The commotion surrounding them disappeared into background noise.

Reality reasserted itself a few seconds later as a group of tipsy cooks nudged Arthur to the side to fill their steins from the keg. Arthur stepped away from the crowd to a quieter area of the courtyard and Alfred walked alongside him.

“Heard you apologized to Edmund,” Alfred said once he had finished off his scone.

“Yes, well, it was good to see his eyebrows had grown back.” Arthur gazed at Alfred out of corner of his eye. “So… how have things been with Lukas?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Boring. He can travel for hours without talking.”

“That must be killing you.”

“You have no idea! At least we always had something to argue about.” Alfred stopped walking as they reached the field filled with spectators for the fireworks show. “I, uh, heard you weren’t getting anyone new.” A look of contrition crossed his face.

“Yes, everyone assumes I did something _unspeakable_ , given that you refuse to speak of it.”

Alfred crossed his arms. “Would you rather I told them the truth?”

“I don’t see anything wrong with what I did. I cast a spell to find my soulmate, discovered him, and was thoroughly rebuffed.”

“If that place actually worked every mage would use it,” Alfred retorted. “You just don’t want to admit that magic can’t solve every problem.”

Arthur sighed. “I’m _painfully_ aware that magic can’t solve every problem. But I didn’t come here to fight with you on your birthday.” He gestured to the center of the meadow, where an apprentice mage was casting a few dancing lights in the air. The apprentice’s paltry efforts drew appreciative _oohs_ and _ahhs_ from the audience. An idea occurred to Arthur and he smirked. Magic couldn’t solve this problem, but perhaps it could nudge it in a better direction. “How would you like some better fireworks?” he asked.

Alfred slowly grinned. “You know I would.”

Arthur closed his eyes and concentrated. The next set of lights exploded in the air in an intricate geometric pattern. The lights flashed through all the colors of the rainbow and then cascaded to the ground in streams of sparkling light.

The apprentice mage stared at the sky in absolute shock as the crowd cheered with delight.

“Wow.” Alfred gazed up into the sky and his eyes sparkled with happiness and the reflection of colorful lights. Arthur smiled up at the starry sky as they enjoyed the rest of the enhanced fireworks show on a sultry summer evening. Alfred was never one to admit when he had made a mistake, so Arthur intended to woo him back slowly. They were soulmates, after all; he had all the time in the world.

* * *

_Fall_

The red and orange leaves of the forest blurred past as Alfred pushed his mare to her fastest gallop. She raced forward along the dirt road, frothing with sweat as gusts of air whipped Alfred’s hair. He hunched over the saddle, staying as low as he could.

Lukas was probably miles behind him now, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was finding Arthur. Mages were a unstoppable force of nature, but once they had exhausted their magic, they were utterly helpless.

Alfred crested a hill and the vision below him was more awful than his worst nightmares. The village of Keld lay in ruin and flame beneath a horde of unsightly creatures that resembled fat, misshapen spiders. Alfred desperately scanned the buildings for any sign of life. He spotted a throng of mages and guards fighting on the empty fields of nearby farm. Alfred headed toward the group until he noticed another fray on the other side of the town. A short mage stood on top of a waist-high stone wall, a lone island in a sea of monsters. He held them at bay with a raging inferno he unleashed from his fingertips.

With nary a second thought, Alfred urged his mount toward the lone mage. It had to be Arthur. It had to be. Alfred rode around the edges of the fray, hacking and slashing any monster that tried to attack as he galloped past. Soon, he was close enough to recognize the familiar figure.

“Arthur!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. A second later Alfred screamed in pain as one of the spiders slipped beneath his sword and stabbed through his leather boot and into Alfred’s calf with a sharp claw. " _Ahhhh_!"

Arthur whirled around. His eyes widened and then scrunched together with fury. He hit the creature that had injured Alfred with a bolt of lightning. The lightning hopped from one creature to another, stunning them and knocking them to the ground.

Wincing against the pain, Alfred urged his mount down the cleared path. He pulled alongside the stone wall and shifted backward on the saddle to make room.

Arthur agilely maneuvered off the waist-high wall and directly onto the saddle in front of Alfred. By then, the monsters had time to regroup and surround them. “Head to the church,” Arthur said, pointing to the nearby stone structure.

Alfred spurred his horse onward while Arthur cleared a path with fire. They galloped up the stone steps amidst the glowing embers that surrounded them. Alfred dismounted in front of the wooden church door and nearly collapsed as pain shot up his wounded leg. He swung his sword at an approaching monster and then managed to open the wooden door. Alfred staggered inside as Arthur quickly led the horse in behind them and slammed the door shut. Grunting with pain, Alfred pushed a nearby pew against the door to barricade it for a moment. Limping, he managed to push two more pews against the door before collapsing on the ground.

Arthur appeared at his side with a field dressing. He pressed the cloth against the wound to staunch the bleeding and then wrapped more cloth around Alfred’s boot to hold the dressing in place. He murmured an incantation and Alfred’s pain eased, but didn’t disappear. “I never had the knack for healing,” Arthur muttered angrily to himself.

Alfred smiled wanly. “Even you can’t be good at everything.”

Monsters pounded on the door, but the barricade held—for the moment. Arthur watched the door warily. “The hallowed ground should hold them for a bit, but I’m not sure how much time we have left.”

Alfred reached for Arthur’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Arthur’s robes were singed, soot covered his face, his hair was a wild bird’s nest, and he still looked absolutely stunning. Alfred had always believed it was normal for a guard to care strongly about his mage—to want to hold him and protect him. But he had just deserted Lukas and it didn’t bother him in the slightest. The depth of his feelings wasn’t part of the normal guard-mage partnership. It was something special he had shared with Arthur and he had thrown it away. “Shit,” Alfred muttered to himself.

“I know.” Arthur sighed and nodded.

“I’m an idiot.”

Arthur chuckled humorlessly. “I know.”

“I guess you were right about the soulmate spell,” Alfred finally admitted.

“I…” Arthur blinked in surprise. A soft smile crossed his face, to be replaced by a scowl a moment later. “I can’t believe how terrible your timing is.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I arrived just in the nick of time to save your butt a few times.”

“Please. You always swoop in at the last minute and claim victory, even though _I_ did all the work.” The pounding on the door grew louder. Arthur huffed, grabbed Alfred by the front of his tunic, and kissed him passionately on the lips. Then Arthur climbed to his feet and turned to face the oncoming horde.

The monstrous spiders burst through the barricade. They shrieked in pain as they stepped onto the sanctified ground. Arthur stretched out his hands and unleashed a powerful inferno that incinerated the monsters to a crisp. Ash littered the stone floor of the church.

Grunting with effort, Alfred staggered up on one foot. Using his sword as a cane, he hopped closer. Despite the pain, he stood next to Arthur and guarded him from the few monsters that had escaped the inferno. He held them back as Arthur unleashed another fiery wave.

Alfred sweated from the heat and his leg throbbed painfully. He glanced over at Arthur. After casting a relentless barrage of powerful spells, the mage was white as a sheet. Arthur swayed and collapsed to his knees, but managed to send one last firebolt against the oncoming monsters before he slumped backward on the stone floor. Alfred grit his teeth and hacked off the legs of the few remaining creatures that dared approach. He waited for a fresh wave to come and kill them both, but it seemed Arthur had managed to finish off the entire horde.

Ignoring the pain shooting up from his leg, Alfred knelt down next to Arthur. He scooped the mage up into his arms and managed to lift Arthur onto his horse. Alfred climbed up behind Arthur, who was slumped forward across the pommel of the saddle. Clutching the mage to his chest, Alfred rode through the few remaining wooden splinters of the church door and galloped out of the village.

* * *

_Winter_

Arthur’s teeth chattered as he curled up next to Alfred beneath the bedroll. Alfred cupped Arthur’s hands in his own and warmed them with his breath. Even with their tent protecting them from the howling blizzard, it was still freezing cold.

“There’s got to be a spell for this,” Alfred muttered as he rubbed his legs together.

“I could set the tent on fire, if you like,” Arthur testily replied. “We would be toasty for the remainder of our lives.”

“But you made food stay warm!”

“That required significant trial and error. And the worst that happens if I raise the temperature of bread too much is a burnt scone.”

Alfred sighed and cuddled closer. Suddenly, his eyes flew open. “What about water?”

“What about…” Arthur’s eyes widened. “Of course! It’ll boil, not catch on fire.”

“I’ll get the kettle,” Alfred replied. Arthur mourned the loss of Alfred’s body heat as Alfred grabbed the kettle and a flask of water. Alfred poured the water into the kettle and set it next to the bedroll, then crawled back in, even colder than before.

Arthur shivered and concentrated. The change was almost imperceptible at first. Soon, he heard the water boiling. The air felt a little warmer in the tent.

“You know, you can be rather clever sometimes,” Arthur said admiringly. The only response from Alfred was a yawn and a smile as they cuddled together for warmth in their shared bedroll while the blizzard raged outside.

* * *

_Spring_

Alfred paced along a quaint wooden bridge over a babbling stream. He glanced toward the forest on one side of the stream and the meadow of wildflowers on the other, but Arthur was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t like the mage to be late.

“Arthur?” he called, wondering if the mage had perfected an invisibility spell and forgotten to mention it.

A frog ribbited at Alfred’s feet and hopped toward him on the bridge. Alfred ignored him and turned to look at the meadow as a movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. It was just a rabbit hopping through the colorful wildflowers.

The frog ribbited again and hopped onto Alfred’s boot.

Alfred frowned thoughtfully. He knew Arthur had mastered a spell to turn a person into a frog because he used it on Francis back during one of their mage prank wars. But he couldn’t imagine any reason why Arthur would use the spell on himself.

“Is that you, Arthur?” Alfred asked, bending down to get a good look at the frog. “Croak twice if it’s you.” The frog ribbited and then ribbited again.

Alfred quickly scooped up the frog and held it gently in his hands.

“I guess I should probably take you to Francis, right?” he wondered aloud. “I mean, he knows the counterspell. Unless…” Alfred knitted his eyebrows together. Arthur wasn’t a prince, but everyone knew that true love’s kiss could counter any spell. It was worth a shot, especially since Arthur would _hate_ asking Francis for help. Alfred lifted the frog up to face level, pressed his lips together, and leaned in.

“Is there a reason you’re cheating on me with a frog?” Arthur asked from behind him.

Alfred startled and nearly dropped the frog. He spun around. “Arthur!” he cried excitedly. “You’re okay!”

Arthur frowned in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I thought you were the frog,” Alfred explained. “He ribbited when I asked if he was you.”

“Yes, that’s what frogs do.” Arthur tilted his head to the side. “Why in the heavens would I transform _myself_ into a frog?”

“I don’t know. Testing out a new spell?”

Arthur shook his head fondly. “And you decided a kiss was the best counterspell.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Alfred’s cheek. Still chuckling to himself, Arthur headed over to the meadow. He unloaded a blanket from the basket he was carrying and spread it out on the grass. He sat down and patted the space next to him.

Alfred hurried over and plopped down on the blanket next to Arthur. He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the sky. A light breeze ruffled the nearby grass, causing the wildflowers to dance in the wind. “So what took you so long to get here?” Alfred asked.

“I said to meet at the _north_ branch of the creak and this, my dear, is the south branch.”

“Oops.” Alfred grinned sheepishly. “And here I thought you were late.”

“A mage is never late. He always arrives precisely when he intends to,” Arthur corrected him. He lay down on his side next to Alfred and wrapped his arm around Alfred’s waist. “As opposed to his guard, who is _always_ late, but arrives just in the nick of time.”

Arthur leaned over to give Alfred a kiss and then they said nothing more for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: seasons. Normally I would have spread out the angst for a little longer, but I wanted to fit in all the seasons, so I guess we're doing a speed-run of their relationship! By way of apology, you can have some bonus angst with this alternative version of the confession scene:
> 
> Alfred frowned. “You said yourself I’m not your soulmate. I figured you’d meet him at some point.”
> 
> “I did meet him,” Arthur said with a huff. “And he’s an idiot.”
> 
> “Oh.” Alfred blinked. His leg throbbed in pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. “Even dumber than me?”
> 
> “About the same level of stupid,” Arthur groused. “Because he is you, you idiot!”
> 
> It was Alfred’s turn to gape. “What? You never told me!”
> 
> Arthur flushed with anger and embarrassment. “I didn’t understand it myself right away and what was I supposed to say? ‘Alfred, I know you think I’m settling for you, but I cast a spell and we’re actually destined to be together.’ You never would have believed me. It was something you had to realize for yourself.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sunlight filtered into the cavern through a vast opening in the rock formation. Everywhere the sun touched was green and growing. Trees grew at the base of the cavern, stretching upward towards the light, while moss covered the striated rock faces. From a smaller sunlit opening, a waterfall cascaded down a rock wall and into a crystal-clear stream.

Walking arm-in-arm, Alfred and Arthur slowly made their way down a path carved into the side of the cavern. The path cut back and forth down the steep rock face, adding significant time to their journey, but delivering them to the bottom of the cavern in a much less lethal manner.

By the time they arrived at the base, Arthur needed a moment to rest. Old bones didn’t move as fast as they used to and they ached more than he remembered from the last time he had climbed down the path.

The underground forest was calm and serene—a hidden oasis sheltered from the elements and filled with many fond memories. A few bluebirds flitted among the trees, adding a pop of blue to the green canopy.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Alfred murmured, which was what he always said when they reached the bottom of the path. He smiled into Arthur’s eyes as he said it. The years had treated Alfred kindly, salting his blond hair with gray and adding laugh lines next to the corners of his eyes. His eyes still twinkled mischievously as he snuck hand pies out of Arthur’s saddlebags when he thought Arthur wasn’t looking. He’d lost some speed and agility over the past couple decades, but training young warriors kept him in good shape.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Arthur agreed, surveying the cavern with pride. Nature had provided the starting point, but he had artfully augmented it with magic—expanding the opening of the natural skylight and encouraging the foliage to grow green and glossy.

“I was talking about you,” Arthur teased, nudging Arthur gently in the side.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I know. You’ve made that joke a million times.”

Together they strolled down the path to what would someday be the heart of Arthur’s mage temple. They crossed over a wooden bridge to a grassy open space in front of a cascading set of waterfalls. The water pooled at the base of the waterfalls before flowing away in a stream that led further underground. A slate monolith stood at the center of the pool, waiting to be carved with words of wisdom.

They sat down on a rock next to the waterfall that Arthur had sculpted into the shape of a bench some years earlier, back when he started to ache from sitting on the ground. Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He focused on pouring a portion of his magical energy into the stone, adding to a reservoir that would one day power his finest magical creation.

Alfred fidgeted next to him. He hummed a drinking song and then began muttering to himself. “I forgot how boring this was,” Alfred complained as he tapped his toes and waited for Arthur to finish.

Eventually, after a deep inhale and a long exhale, Arthur opened his eyes. The monolith glimmered with power and its reflection sparkled in the shallow pool of water.

“So, figured out your plan for it yet?” Alfred asked

“I have some ideas. I’ve been studying Erzébet’s research notes.”

Alfred frowned. “Wait, isn’t she the one who…?”

“Yes, she made the soulmate spell. Fascinating woman. Her research was all about identifying people with highly compatible personalities. She was also, um, apparently very partial to men falling in love with each other. Had her own little harem, but according to her notes she mostly watched.”

Alfred’s jaw dropped. “Are you telling me that spell paired us together because a dead mage liked watching men have sex?” He crossed his arms. “And when you said you were stuck in your tower reading old notes for ‘research,’ you were just reading century-old erotica!”

“Oh, please.” Arthur scoffed. “I don’t need erotica when I have you around.”

“Yeah. I am pretty good, aren’t I?” Alfred bragged.

Arthur just rolled his eyes. “As I was saying, I wanted to know how the spell worked. It gives you the impression that you must sacrifice your life or the life of someone else for the spell to work. The first mages who visited the temple failed the test because they chose to save their own lives. That’s why they told everyone what a dangerous spell it was.”

A look of horror crossed Alfred’s face. “You mean the spell actually _kills_ your soulmate if you choose to save your own life?”

“No. She wasn’t that cruel. The spell just ends and it doesn’t let you try again. You may go the rest of your life without meeting your soulmate.” Arthur gazed at the waterfall thoughtfully. “If I hadn’t already met you, that could have easily been me,” he mused aloud. “It would take an incredibly selfless person to be willing to sacrifice their own life to save a stranger.”

Alfred tilted his head to the side. “So if you passed the test, why did it try to drown you?”

“Ah, that’s the interesting part. Erzébet realized it wouldn’t always be possible for your soulmate to appear right away. There are limits to what even magic can do. So she added a secondary portion of the spell to hold you in stasis until your soulmate arrived.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Alfred’s face. “Like a sleep spell.”

Arthur nodded. “I blacked out as soon as I was in the water. I don’t remember anything until you pulled me out. I think I was in there for at least several minutes.”

“That’s… wow.” Alfred took Arthur’s hand and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of Arthur’s hand in soothing circles. Age spots marked Arthur’s skin, but it was still warm and soft.

“And then there was poor Dorian,” Arthur continued. “He was the last one to visit before me. Never came back. I think he passed the first test, but for whatever reason there wasn’t a person with a sufficiently compatible personality.”

Alfred shivered. “You mean he’s still in that lake?”

“Yes. Waiting some day for his soulmate to appear.” Arthur shook his head sadly. “I informed the magic circle, but it’s a nearly impossible spell to break.” He sighed and leaned his head on Alfred’s shoulder. “Makes me realize how incredibly fortunate I was.”

Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand. “What are you talking about? I’m the lucky one.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” Arthur offered with a chuckle.

“Arguing with you isn’t as fun as it used to be,” Alfred teased.

“Well, if you want a real argument, we could discuss that atrocious rug you brought into our house.”

“What are you talking about? It’s beautiful! And I got a great discount.”

Arthur snorted. “It’s tacky. That cats hate it and so do I.”

“The cats hate everything. They’re cats. It’s what they do.”

“That’s not true. They’d love a _Persian_ rug.”

Alfred groaned. “Okay, I give up. You win this one.”

“Excellent.” Arthur climbed to his feet. He took Alfred’s hand and then folded it into the crook of his elbow. Arthur glanced back thoughtfully at the monolith and waterfall as they walked along the path out of the forest. “Sometimes I wonder if another spell is what mages really need. Of all the things I learned, what mattered most was looking deep within myself, questioning what I had been taught, and opening myself up to the possibilities.”

Alfred looked over at him with a soft, fond gaze. “Whatever you make, I know it’s going to be amazing. I just hope it’s not for a long, long time.”

“Me, too,” Arthur agreed. They climbed back up the path and headed home together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this one is nostalgia, but I think it ended up being mostly sap. Oh, well. Hope you enjoyed the story! It was fun tying most of the prompts together into a single fic. Stay safe, everyone!


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